Misty
by Dani-Ellie03
Summary: No, that sound hadn't come from a squirrel at all. It seemed that a tiny, helpless kitten had indeed taken up residence beneath Emma and Killian's porch. (or, Captain Swan and a kitten)


**Title:** Misty  
 **Summary:** No, that sound hadn't come from a squirrel at all. It seemed that a tiny, helpless kitten had indeed taken up residence beneath Emma and Killian's porch.  
 **Spoilers:** Let's say everything up to 6x03, "The Other Shoe."  
 **Rating/Warning:** K+, for brief language. Fluff so fluffy that marshmallow is jealous.  
 **Word Count:** 2178, so sayeth OpenOffice.  
 **Characters:** Emma and Killian with a guest appearance by a tiny four-legged friend.  
 **Disclaimer:** _Once Upon a Time_ and its characters were created by Eddie Kitsis and Adam Horowitz and are owned by ABC. I don't know what it is about their characters but I do so adore playing with them.  
 **Author's Note:** zannereid27 on Tumblr asked for a story about Emma and Killian getting a pet. Something about the thought of the two of them chasing after and snuggling with a tiny kitten gives me the happies, so here we be! Feedback is a writer's ice cream sundae! Enjoy. :)

* * *

It was only on days like this, when the savior hotline wasn't ringing off the hook and Emma had a few spare moments to sit and relax, that it hit her how ridiculous her life had become. Because here it was, the first really nice day of spring, and she, the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming, was spending it on the wicker loveseat out on the front porch, cuddled up with Captain Hook.

The Emma Swan of a few years ago would never – never in a million years – have believed that one day she would be perfectly content working her way through a pitcher of spiked lemonade with Captain Hook. The Emma Swan of a few years ago would never have believed that she would find her parents, her loving, wonderful parents, and in so doing find that she was in fact the rightful princess of the Enchanted Forest.

It was a dream – fantasy, really – she remembered having as a little kid. She remembered pretending that her parents were a king and a queen from a far-off land and one day they'd come back for her. Pretty much every orphan she knew had similar fantasies. Long, brutal years in the system had quickly disabused them of those fantasies but, in her case, it hadn't been at all far from the truth.

Which was, to be completely honest, still a little mind-boggling sometimes. Like now, when out of the blue it hit her that she was sitting on the front porch and splitting a pitcher of spiked lemonade with Captain Hook.

"We should do this more often," Killian said, startling Emma out of her reverie.

She looked up at him, squinting in the spring sun. "Do what? Try to get a decent buzz going in the middle of the day?"

A grin spread across his lips as he arched a single eyebrow. "Aye, love. That, too. What I originally meant, however, was that we should sit out here on the porch more often. It's been a lovely afternoon so far."

It really had. Lovely and relaxing. The day drinking didn't hurt, either. "Yeah, well, tell the savior hotline to stay as quiet as it has been today and maybe we can."

Killian chuckled as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Emma snuggled impossibly closer to him, rested her head on his shoulder, and closed her eyes. The spring sun warmed her face and she couldn't help smiling when he dropped a kiss onto the top of her head.

This was _heaven_.

For a long moment, the two of them sat in comfortable silence. Emma was just about to pour herself another glass of lemonade when Killian suddenly sat at attention. "What's the matter?" she asked, savior reflexes already on high alert.

"Shh. Did you just hear that?"

He was whispering. "Hear what?" she whispered back.

A second later, she did indeed hear something: a soft rustling sound floating up through the wooden porch slats under their feet. Emma let out a breath and slumped back on the wicker loveseat. He'd gotten her all worked up over an animal moving through the carpet of fallen leaves blown beneath the porch by years of autumn winds. "It's probably just a squirrel or something," a relieved Emma told Killian as she took another sip of lemonade. For a brief, heart-stopping moment, she'd been afraid that savior duty was calling and this relaxing afternoon would have to go poof as a result.

But then there was a new noise, one that immediately made Emma sit at attention. A pathetic, terrified little mewling sound drifted up through the porch slats.

Emma and Killian exchanged a glance. That was no squirrel.

Sobering instantly, they pushed themselves to their feet and as one, crept down the stairs, taking care not to hit the creaky spot on the second to last step. The last thing they wanted to do was frighten whatever poor creature was under the porch even further. Then they crouched down and peered into the dark space underneath the porch.

"Do you see anything?" Killian murmured after a beat.

Emma shook her head. Even with the bright spring sunshine overhead, it was far too dark under the porch to see much of anything beyond the faint outlines of fallen leaves. Her hand immediately dug into her pocket. She unearthed her phone, turned on the flashlight feature, and aimed the resulting LED beam at the blackness.

Almost immediately, the light glinted off a set of tiny, petrified feline eyes. "Killian," Emma whispered.

"Aye, love, I see her, too."

No, not a squirrel at all. It seemed that a tiny, helpless kitten had indeed taken up residence beneath their porch.

The poor little animal looked so scared and so hungry that the mere sight of her knocked Emma back on her heels. She could see now that the poor thing was trembling and that she was dirty. Though she was quite clearly very young, she must have been on her own for a _while_.

A vise-grip suddenly clamped down on Emma's heart. "Come here, kitty," she murmured as she slowly reached her hand under the porch. At her approach, the terrified kitten took a few uncoordinated steps backward and burrowed further beneath the rotting leaves.

 _Damn it_ , Emma thought as she lowered her hand. The kitten had backed completely out of her reach. Now what? They couldn't just leave the poor thing under there.

The ache in Emma's heart deepened as she tried to figure out what to do. The poor little kitten's predicament was stirring up emotions deep within Emma that she usually tried very hard to tamp down. This poor little defenseless creature, all alone in the world, fending for herself. An orphan through circumstances beyond her control, longing for love.

And suddenly it came to her. As an orphan herself, she knew of one thing – one base, primal thing – to which she had always responded. "Killian, I need you to do me a favor," she murmured.

"Anything, love."

"Go into the kitchen, find a can of tuna fish, open it, and bring it out to me, please."

"Will do."

He slowly pushed himself to his feet and quietly backed away from the porch. Emma hid a smile; he certainly was a natural at taking care not to startle skittish creatures. When he disappeared through the front door, Emma took the LED beam off the kitten just long enough to scan the rest of the dark space beneath the porch. Just as she'd thought, there were no other kittens and no mother cat. "How did you get all the way out here by yourself, huh?" she murmured as she trained the beam back on the kitten, which still hadn't moved a muscle and still let out an occasional pathetic mew.

How indeed. She hadn't noticed any stray cats in the neighborhood; she'd have to ask Killian when he came back if he'd noticed any. The sheriff's station, at least, hadn't been notified of any missing cats or kittens. Since there was clearly a visit to the animal shelter in Emma's immediate future – at least to make sure the kitten was no worse for the wear from her ordeal – she could ask there as well.

Killian returned then with the opened can of tuna. The suddenly interested kitten pushed herself up in the leaves, her little nose twitching at the aroma. Emma smiled to herself; her plan was already working.

Without having to be instructed, Killian set the can down on the grass and backed away. Emma backed up as well, giving the kitten room to investigate the food while still remaining close to enough to go in for the catch.

It took a few minutes but the poor kitten's hunger won out. She toddled out from under the porch and began chowing down on the tuna. Emma had at first planned to snatch her up while she was eating but something about the way the poor little thing was gulping down the food as if she hadn't eaten in days hit her right in the gut.

She looked up at Killian through the tears welling in her eyes. He smiled at her in understanding and murmured, "Gently."

She nodded and crouched down to the ground. She slowly crept closer to the kitten as she ate to avoid scaring the poor little thing back under the porch. When she was within reaching distance, she simply ghosted a finger down the tiny cat's fuzzy gray back.

With each pass, her touch became stronger. A soft stroke became a light caress. The light caress bloomed into a full-grown petting. When it became clear that the kitten both had eaten her fill of tuna and wasn't going to dart back under the porch, Emma scooped her up in her hands.

There was absolutely nothing to the little thing. Emma could hold her with one hand. She couldn't weigh more than a pound. The still shaking kitten nuzzled Emma's chest, closed her eyes, and began to purr in response to the gentle motion of Emma's thumb rubbing over her back.

There again was that vise-grip on Emma's heart. Slowly, she stood and turned to Killian with teary eyes. "She's an orphan, too."

Killian's eyes were glistening as well. He felt it, too, then. He felt every bit of the sympathy for the poor little thing that she did because he lived it, too. The kitten's plight was plucking the exact same heartstrings for him as it did for her. They were both orphans and they both wanted nothing more than to help every other orphan they met along the way, even the ones with four legs and fur.

Emma's instincts were proven correct when Killian approached slowly so as not to startle the kitten, pressed a kiss to Emma's head, and said, "Not anymore."

* * *

According to the vet at the animal shelter, the kitten was approximately seven weeks old and, aside from a mild case of dehydration, was perfectly healthy. After he'd given the kitten her initial round of vaccinations and Emma and Killian a schedule to follow for the rest of the vaccinations and her spay, he'd given them the okay to take little Misty home.

(Henry had decided to call her Misty because she was gray. Killian thought it was the perfect name for her, as her fur was indeed the color of a cloudy ocean sky. Emma made the decision unanimous, so Misty she was.)

After making sure the front door and windows were locked and the lights were off, Killian climbed the stairs to the bedroom. He paused in the doorway, smiling at the sight in front of him. Little Misty was curled up on Emma's stomach, sound asleep with her tiny chin on her front paws. Emma herself seemed to be asleep, her hand cupped protectively over the kitten.

Killian took a moment to drink in the sight before him. He'd never pegged his Swan for a cat person but she had bonded rather quickly with the little kitten. Misty clearly felt as the same, as she'd followed Emma around all evening.

Which was all kinds of adorable, by the way. Not that Killian had any intention of saying so to Emma but he and Henry had shared a loving chuckle over it.

After another beat or two, he stepped over the threshold, removed his brace, and climbed into bed. Neither Emma nor the kitten moved a muscle. It was only when he tried to shift Emma's hand off of Misty to relocate the kitten to the pillows that she stirred and blinked her eyes open. "Apologies, love," he whispered.

"It's okay. I didn't mean to fall asleep. I didn't want to chance rolling over and squishing her."

A smiling Killian gently lifted the sleeping kitten off Emma's stomach and settled her on Emma's pillow instead.

"This probably isn't the best idea," she continued as she turned over to face him, her hand automatically finding Misty to gave her a few gentle scratches. "Letting her sleep in the bed with us, I mean. It's just that ..."

She trailed off, either unable or unwilling to voice what, exactly, she was feeling. She didn't have to voice it, though, because Killian already knew. He felt it, too. "She was alone."

Emma nodded. "And I want her to know that she's not alone anymore."

"She will," Killian assured her. "We'll give her so much love that she'll forget what being alone felt like."

At long last, a smile lit Emma's face. Killian smiled back, kissed his Swan good night, and turned out the light. The lost little boy and the lost little girl had made a family and after having spent so many years alone, they had nothing but love to give, to each other, to Henry, to mothers and fathers and baby brothers and friends, and apparently even to tiny gray no-longer-abandoned kittens.


End file.
